Food for Sport: the Aligning of America's Pastimes
"Take Me Out to the Ballgame," baseball's inexorable theme song, shows just how far baseball has come, or rather, how the game has largely stayed the same since the song's inception in 1908. Baseball is a remarkably traditional sport, tied to its roots, run by purists, and the longevity of the song can be attributed to the fact that its words still ring true today. Fans still go to be part of "the crowd." Despite myriad rule changes, it's still "three strikes and you're out." Given the current era of tanking, "shame" when the home team loses has been taken to the level of art.
But one lyric feels anachronistic. In the third line, the song imagines, amidst the fanfare and excitement of a live sporting event, that the ideal food for the game is "peanuts and Cracker Jacks." Though still sold in stadiums and consumed by fans young and old, "peanuts and Cracker Jacks" seem like relics of games played in black-and-white with canvas caps used as batting helmets and rudimentary leather gloves. Baseball has evolved in fits and starts, and though many rules and looks have changed, we're still enjoying essentially the same version of the game (Rob Manfred's delirium aside). Early practitioners of the game would likely recognize this sport and see it befitting of the name 'Baseball.'
I don't think they would recognize this as essential to the game's experience:
America is obsessed with sports, and in the past, food was fuel for that obsession. Super Bowl parties are nothing without chips, dip, and wings. But where sports used to be the monoculture and center of attention, the splintering of our entertainment sources and acceptance of diverse passions as mainstream has vaulted food into a new stratosphere. Food is not just inextricably tied to attending, watching, enjoying, and even playing sports anymore. It has been elevated beyond a side-dish into the main course. Food, not just the product, but the culture around it, is revered, celebrated, pursued, and memed to the level of sports. In same way kids look up to star athletes, a new generation of chefs create equal buzz and commotion regarding their every move. Restaurant drama is played out in the open thanks to Twitter and industry trades like Eater. Infatuation rates restaurants on a scale as if they were the latest minor league prospect. Food is no longer relegated to the concessions of ballparks: it is on the same playing field.
There are many ways food and sports intertwine and equally many ways that food has ascended to the same cultural plane as sports, often borrowing from the sports world as inspiration. Most recently, the sporting world has taken a vocal interest in food and food culture. The convergence has drawn the two closer together and revealed the incredible similarities in terms of their place within our current conversation as well as future as cultural focal points.
This year's Winter Olympics have christened new stars and prepared a bright future for those stars as athletes and personalities. From The Shib Sibs to Adam Rippon, athletes have inspired parts of the country and lit most of the Internet ablaze. Unsurprisingly, food has been the topic of conversation instead of gold medals. Poster child for the food infusion is snowboarder Chloe Kim, who seems more preoccupied with her meals than with her twists and flips in the halfpipe. Fans have fallen in love with the precocious teen not for her marvelous tricks but for her incredibly relatable quest for snacks and the onset of hanger.
What the Chloe Kim-craze (Kimsanity?) teaches us is that food thrives alongside sport because it is tailor made for the Internet generation. Bite sized content is the perfect format for mouth-watering food porn, hot takes on the latest ingredient trend, GIF recipes, and the culture of posting sharing on social media. Sports similarly are just as easily consumed through highlight reels and quick stat-packs. There is no parallel for film or TV, two other increasingly discussed pillars of modern culture. No movie or TV show can be accurately distilled and shared in the way that food photography has so pervaded social feeds. Quantized food content spreads and generates word of mouth, creating hype in food communities rivaled only by the most ludicrous of athletic feats.
As Spring Training approaches, we also approach a new American tradition: the lists of most outrageous stadium foods. Every year now, teams compete to load as much food as they can onto hot dogs, into baseball helmets, and on top of Bloody Marys. The perfect combination of absurd and Instagrammable, these confections bridge the gap for those who may enjoy sports, but also want a sweet photographic souvenir to share with all their followers. Food is now an essential part of the enjoyment of games because it is accessible to anyone, even with the ridiculous prices.
Food, like sports, is truly unifying. In divisive times, we have countlessly turned to sports to heal, and on a smaller scale, food acts in a similar way. That sounds incredibly trite and overblown but I bring it up because the inspiration for this stream of consciousness came from two articles about beer and the Winter Olympics. The high-minded purpose of the Olympics is to bring nations together in solidarity and honor each other's respective prowess. I think the side effect of this is the sharing of culture, of which these beer drinking nations proudly put on display.
First, the training routine of the country where drinking beer is an Olympic sport: Germany.
Second, in the realm of memes, a Canadian husband eases the stress of watching his wife compete.
At least the world can agree on sports and food (with a side of beer).